Happily ever after

I fell in love at sixteen.
Bad timing. Wrong age. Predictable disaster.
James knew it too. That’s why he stayed away.
Because wanting me was easy. Doing the right thing meant waiting… and hurting anyway.
Years later, one impulsive decision, a Vegas wedding, and suddenly we’re married.
Not healed. Not ready. Just honest enough to stop running.
Love doesn’t fix trauma.
It doesn’t erase the past, the secrets, or the damage left behind by people who should have loved you better.
This is not a fairytale.
It’s messy. It’s uncomfortable. It hurts in places you thought were already numb.
But it’s also about choosing each other.
About a man who doesn’t try to save me. He stands beside me.
And a woman who learned to survive long before she learned how to trust.
This is our story.
Not perfect. Not easy.
But real.
And sometimes, real is the bravest kind of happy ending.